Somewhat Found
by Majestrix
Summary: Sometimes, you have to make some decisions to get things done. What happens when people no longer sit by and take what life hands them?
1. Acclimation

The rain fell with a comforting purpose, the lush greenery bowed in reverence to the liquid blessing bestowed upon it. Harry leaned his head against the tombstone and blinked as the water ran into his eyes. "You always did tell me I had a bad habit of staying in the rain. You always threatened that I would get myself sick, and yet I never did."

The silence answered him, and he laughed briefly. "I hope you know I'm sorry. I know I always end the conversation like this, but honestly I have nothing left to say, and it's the most important thing on my mind. I think of you often, but not as often as I used to, and that makes me sad. It means that the part of my life that I cherished the most is actually over. I need to accept that."

A snap of a twig reached his ears, and before the next footfall came, he was ready with his wand. A shadow materialized in the air, and two seconds later he was able to make out Percy's thin face from between the upturned collar of his cloak. "I thought that was you." The tall redhead said as he held out a thermos. "My mother sends this in hopes that you'll come inside and get warm."

"I think I'm going to go home now. I didn't mean to disturb anything." Harry accepted the thermos and flicked his wand; the light expanding to fill in the shadow around them, Ginny's grave as pristine as when she was first lowered to the earth.

"That's the thing Harry, you're not. Why don't you come in before you go off, at least to get dry?" Percy sank lower into his cloak and made a face. "Ginny doesn't want you to punish yourself forever."

He watched the emotions cross Harry's face before becoming swallowed by the passive mask he had come to know the last few months. "I would, but I'm a little close to the full moon for my tastes, and I don't feel like socializing."

"Since when is stopping by the Burrow socializing?"

"Since now. How are the girls?" The subject was changed quickly, and Percy sighed briefly.

"As well as to be expected." Both men found their gaze moving towards Penelope's grave, a somber reminder that everyone lost someone. "My mother is a godsend. What am I going to do with twin four year old girls?"

"Cherish them, because they look just like Penelope." Harry cleared his throat and shook his head. "I'm sorry; I don't mean to say that-"

"I know what you're saying. I tell myself everyday. They remind me of her when they smile, laugh, everything. The only way I know they're not copies of her is the red hair." Both men laugh briefly, more out of nicety instead of shared humor. It wasn't that Harry couldn't empathize, or even that he didn't like Percy again. It was just hard to talk to most people now. "So how are you feeling? Everyone was kind of surprised that you moved to Wales. Seems kind of rash, don't you think?"

"Not when the political mess started up. It's just safer for everyone if I stay in Wales." Harry found himself scratching his neck out of habit. The phantom itch was maddening at times.

"There are people in Wales Harry. You would have been just as safe here as you are there. Besides, great strides are being made-"

"But would you all be safer?" No answer came and the light from the tip of Harry's wand winked out. "I'm going to go, I'll talk to you later Perce. Tell your mother I send my love, but I cannot come in and chat right now." Without another word the man was gone, leaving Percy alone in the Weasley family cemetery.

> > > > >

The stones that lead up to the quietly majestic house he now resided in were only damp now, the rainstorm responsible for the moisture now hovering somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. The smell was one of sleep, the greenery so much more rich than what he was used to in the city.

The door opened for him without a gesture, and he held out his cloak and hat as the house elf appeared next to him. "Master had a good trip to England?" Dobby squeaked and Harry shrugged and moved forward.

"It was as well as to be expected."

"Does Master require anything else?" He asked, scrabbling quickly to catch up.

"Just that you stop calling me that." Harry rounded the corner and shut the door to the study, but Dobby appeared on the other side, completely unfazed.

"But Dobby must call Master Harry master. It is only proper."

"I thought you enjoyed your freedom." The wizard frowned distractedly, pouring a generous helping of centuries old scotch into a goblet before knocking it back.

"Dobby knew he was needed, and you wouldn't ask for help. Besides, it is entirely a different matter when Dobby gets to decide what Dobby is to do. Dobby has decided that he pledges himself to you, which makes you his master."

"I'm going to stop arguing now."

"Good, because you're never going to win." The quiet female voice behind him caused him to smile briefly, and he turned; another glass in hand.

"Mrs. Rhodes, would you like to join me for some scotch?" He asked hopefully, and Luna's robes swished as she cleared the threshold and sank gratefully into a plush chair facing the fire.

"So formal Mr. Potter, but technically I'm on duty, so I don't want to imbibe anything at the moment." She stared into the fire briefly before her gaze was attracted to the nervous adjustment of Harry's collar. "Is …it... giving you problems still?"

"At times I think it's more mental than anything, but yes, it still itches like crazy." Harry knocked back both glasses quickly without a shudder or change of expression, and sat down in the matching chair across from her. "How have you been?"

"Good. I think it wise that you got yourself a secret keeper. It makes it a heck of a lot easier not to wonder if you're safe or not."

"Well, mistakes of the past taught me one thing. Just because something failed, doesn't mean its not a great way of doing things… you just have to make sure that you're doing it correctly."

"Here here." Luna absently twirled a lock of blond hair around her index finger and sighed. "How is she?"

"Stubborn as ever. She has a temper on her I didn't realize I had forgotten about."

"Well, she's somewhat not herself, the same as you. We're still searching for all the ways a person is altered by even a shallow exposure to lycanthropy. Its mind boggling how many variables are required to be factored."

"At least I understand the situation."

"You're holding back your emotions so you don't have to deal with them. At least Angelina has the decency to understand why she's feeling this way."

"And how am I feeling?" The steel in her voice belied the pale and listless look on her face. Luna rose fluidly and reached into her robes, producing two vials.

"Hopefully better than yesterday. Where is your cane?"

"I left it in the bedroom." Angelina moved forward a bit unsteadily, her scathing look forcing Harry and Luna to stay where they were. She hobbled over to the couch and half eased half flopped to the cushions.

"You're not supposed to put any undue stress on your spine. It's being held together by two spells that are dubious apart and downright frightening together. You have to heal before they are removed or you'll never walk again." Harry scratched at his neck irritably, a hot flash of irritation flashing down his collar.

"I'm fine Luna. Harry, are you okay?" She asked, stilling his nervous scratching movement.

"Fine." He forced his hand down and to his glass, where they gripped as a distraction.

"Still lying I see."

"I told you enough so you'd stop asking." Luna looked back and forth between the two very quiet individuals before her.

"Alright then… well Angelina, I'm going to leave the potions you'll need for today and tomorrow morning." She stood and put the vials on the end table beside the couch.

"You're not staying?"

"No. I'm due back at St. Mungos shortly. I'll come back to check on the both of you later on." Before Angelina could say anything else the door to the study was closing, and she was gone.

"Everyone is doing that as of late." Harry laughed mirthlessly and stood to pour himself another drink.

"They... don't know what to say."

> > > > >

Hermione pulled the last pin out of her hair and breathed a sigh of relief as it tumbled around her shoulders, freed from its oppressive bun she sported while at work. The flat was sorely in need of a good pick up, and dinner was yet to be started… but the one thing that pulled her mind and body was the heap of research that was piled on the dinning room table.

A package lie on the table next to the rolls of parchment and it had a card with Molly Weasley's handwriting on it. From the heat emanating from the paper, it was the daily lunch she felt obligated to have delivered at the same time, two minutes before Hermione walked through the door.

Absently she untied the string to the lamb and potato pie with currant chutney (Hermione couldn't get enough of chutney in any shape form or fashion… with anything) according to the lovingly written card, and pulled her notes from the week before.

Work was increasingly difficult, her attention span wandering so much more now. Often her thoughts drifted to Harry and Angelina and with her hormones in overdrive it wasn't often that she could think about them and not cry. Easing out of her shoes, she brought her food over to the couch and ungracefully squatted on the couch. Halfway through the minutes of the last meeting with the minister and more than half way through her lamb pie Ron walked through the door wearily.

"Evening dear." He said half yawning, kicking the door closed with his foot.

"Ron, why didn't you use the Floo?" She asked, rising unsteadily.

"Because I felt like the walk. I haven't had a good day." Ron kissed her gratefully and absently rubbed her distended belly. "How was yours?"

"Just long and tedious. What happened at work?" He hung his cloak on the rack and rotated his neck gingerly.

"We were going over some basic blasting curses; most we've already gone over with Harry in our seventh year. That was fine, but Whitman was doing everything he could get my ire up. It was basically elimination. We were properly shielded, and if we knocked the shield down, we won. Well, it was down to eight of us, and Whitman decided to pitch himself against those who were left."

"He didn't." Hermione shook her head and sighed. "Is he a maniac?"

"After today, I know for sure he is." Ron laughed. "It was Andais, Murphy, me and Douglas. He took us one by one. Without shields."

"Without shields? Is he allowed to do that?"

"He can run the training any way he wants to. He took down Douglas and Murphy first. They both had to be sent to the infirmary. Andais may look like a little girl, but she can take a blast. And she did, to the chest. Knocked her against the wall and she was out cold for almost ten minutes. I was highly upset to say the least."

"That's an understatement." Hermione hadn't met Andais but only a few times, and she seemed like a lovely woman, very shy but awfully observant. "What happened next, and why did he leave you last?"

"Because he doesn't like me. He hates that he had to let me back in the program. I have only a month left and then I graduate. I've been trying to keep my head down like you said, but it's getting increasingly more difficult. I had to defend myself today. He was malicious and intended to hurt me. I know he did."

"What did he do!" She was shrill now, looking over his person for any signs of injury, something that he was hiding from her. Only his look restrained her.

"Well, you remember right before Voldermort invaded Hogwarts… the DA meeting we had?"

"Like it was yesterday."

"Well, I used Harry's technique of amplifying the curse."

"Ron!" Hermione knew what that could do. It was used to knock down half of the castle onto a platoon of Death Eaters and unfortunate Imperius victims. "Why would you do that?"

"Because he came at me with something other than a blasting curse. I don't know what it was, but it didn't feel right, it was bright orange and it was barely deflected by the shield. Whitman has stopped trying to hide his hatred of me and Harry. If Harry were here they would have had it out today, I'm sure of it."

"So you returned with that amplified curse?"

"I sure did. It knocked him out for half an hour. Tonks came by and saw what happened, and cancelled training for the rest of the day. I've been down to see everyone who was hurt, and then I took the long way home. I was so angry I wanted to cool off before I saw you." He kissed her on the cheek and sighed. "Have you spoken to Harry today?"

"No, I haven't. I thought that maybe you and I could head over there later. If you're up to it."

"I saw Lupin at the Ministry. He was going to see Harry tonight. I'm kind of tired and sore, so I'm going to get in the bath and go to bed early. I'll go see him tomorrow." Hermione nodded slowly as Ron pulled away and walked down the hall.

> > > > >

"It's been nice to get away, but it rains so much this time of year. Sometimes I feel cut off." Harry swirled the firewhiskey around his glass and looked back up at Lupin and sighed.

"Well, at least you have support. The public is still divided on how they feel about your situation." Remus took a swallow of his own drink and leaned back into the seat further, eyes lost in the fire that was crackling merrily.

"My _situation_?"

"Yes, your situation. At least they've decided to think about the issue of what a werewolf feels. What a werewolf faces on a daily basis. It was fashionable to discriminate against us."

"I don't want to be the martyr for a cause-"

"That's not your own?" Harry sighed and shook his head slowly.

"I didn't mean-"

"To say it aloud. Face it Harry you've finally understood what I've gone through most of my life. It's horrible, I know, but you're going to have to deal with it because there is no cure!" Remus said hotly, now looking at Harry intently.

"Don't make me feel guilty. This is not my fault." He rose and refilled his glass, spilling more than he intended.

"Harry you've had enough."

"You are not my father."

"No, I'm the closest thing you have to him right now, and I'm not trying to be your father, but excessive drinking will dull the effects of the wolfsbane potion in a week."

"I'm sick of this." The stopper was shoved into the decanter a little harder than necessary. "I'm sick of remembering that when I get upset I have a tendency to overreact because my aggression has risen more than fifty percent, but only two weeks before the full moon. Making sure there was no silver in the house, leaving some of Sirius' things behind at Gimmauld Place."

"It's not helping anything jumping down my throat."

"What!"

"I said, there's nothing changing because you're trying to rip me a new one. I don't have the energy to make this argument any more than one sided. So if you want to jump down my throat you can do that without my participation."

"Fuck you."

"Of course." Lupin rose to his feet heavily, the upcoming full moon evident in the posture of his body and the haggardness of his appearance. Rubbing his face briefly he reached for his cane and lurched towards Harry. "Just listen to me. You're on the verge of being able to do something for a group of people who will be most grateful. Through you people could see that you're still a functioning human being with the need to feed and clothe your family. You still have friends and you're not contagious. You can let hundreds of people live like humans again!"

"And yet you don't want me angry?"

"I'm not saying that at all Harry. I'm just saying with the current climate perhaps-"

"You sound like a politician. Don't you care what happened to _her_? To _me_?" Harry looked at the bedroom door briefly, before leaning in closer. "You are very important to me, so I will forgive you for thinking I shouldn't be upset by this, but do know that I now think very differently from you." Remus gazed back at Harry with slight sadness.

"I'll show myself out."

"You do that." Harry didn't look up until the click of the door released the breath he didn't know he held. His throat hurt, and he only half meant what he said, but honestly he couldn't figure out which of it he didn't mean. A knock startled him out of his reverie and Harry adjusted his collar and put down the drink. "Come in."

Hermione stuck her head in and grinned. "Hullo."

"Hullo Hermione. Come on in." He genuinely smiled for the first time today, giving her a big hug.

"Goodness Harry, are you trying to bathe in the stuff?" She asked, pushing him away and wincing. "You know my nose is sensitive. Why are you drinking so much?"

"Because I don't have a job and it seemed to be a good thing to do. I can't just twiddle my thumbs while I wait for people to come see me. You've discouraged me enough so that I don't try and take trips into London." He walked out of the study and down the hall. Hermione stood there for a second before walking after him.

"It wasn't me who discouraged you Harry, it was the fact that you're afraid to go out in public and all people do is stare! You said it yourself, you don't like all those eyes on you. It's not my fault you left England entirely!" She hissed, grabbing his arm. Harry yanked it away and glared at her.

"Hermione, maybe you shouldn't have come today. I had a bad argument with Remus, and I don't want to take it out on you." He said; more calm than he was a second ago.

"I'm not afraid of you Harry Potter; I don't know when you're going to get that through your head. Where's Angelina?"

"She's either in the kitchen or in the bedroom. Dobby can prepare you something if you're hungry." She looked a tad sheepish.

"I've already eaten a few hours ago, but I won't turn down some good nosh. Dobby is a whiz in the kitchen. How did you know I was hungry?" Harry shrugged and smiled.

"You're pregnant. I thought we could end this fight if you ate something." Her jaw dropped and she smacked his arm. "Ow! What was that for?"

"For thinking you can manipulate me with food just because I'm pregnant. Just so you know it's not always going to work." Harry smiled and took her hand.

"That's okay. After it stops working I'll bribe you with jewelry. Where's Ron?" He asked as they made their way towards the kitchen.

"He's a little sore from today's training. He decided to retire early tonight." Hermione thought briefly about telling him what happened, but it wouldn't do anything but cause Harry to be angry again.

"Alright. You'd tell me if there was something wrong, right?"

"Stop badgering her Harry. She's not going to tattle on her husband now are you Hermione?" Angelina smiled and leaned heavily on her cane as she gave the younger woman a hug. "Look at you, you're getting big! I know you can't wait until your due."

"I'm almost sure that I am not normal. Besides the aching feet I love being pregnant. Ron on the other hand wants his son to come along as soon as possible. He's half afraid and half excited all the time."

"The nature of men." Angelina looked at Harry and motioned him away. "Go do something. 'Mione and I have some girl talk to have."

"I'll leave you ladies to it. If you need me, let me know." She smiled and limped into the kitchen with Hermione.

"So, how's work?"

"It's coming along. We've had to renegotiate some treaties with the Goblins that had fallen into extreme antiquity. Luckily I caught them. I've been in search of interesting things to keep my mind on my job. I either find myself daydreaming about the baby, daydreaming about sleeping or eating, or helping you guys."

"Helping us?" Hermione took the large mug that appeared in front of her and blew on the hot chocolate, cursing her inability to think before she spoke.

"Did I say that? I meant visiting. _Visiting_." Angelina's eyebrow rose and she sighed.

"You don't think that we require you to visit as you call it, do you?"

"No, no of course not." Hermione assured hastily. "I come because I want to, and Wales is honestly beautiful this time of year."

"Yes, I like to take walks when Harry decides to leave on his day trips."

"Why when he leaves?"

"Because he's taken to treating me like fine china." Angelina laughed embarrassingly. "I don't know how to tell him to stop without yelling, and he doesn't know how to tell me he's worried without smothering me and yelling when I step a toe past _his_ line."

"I do believe he cares deeply about you. Have the two of you thought of marriage?" Hermione laughed at the look on her face.

"Honestly? There is so much to think about. I don't want to shamble down an aisle if I do decide to get married, and I don't know if I want to yet."

"Well, you two are… in a relationship right?"

"What are we, in Hogwarts still?" Angelina shrugged and tossed her hair over her shoulder in annoyance. "I haven't asked the question, and we're not even in a position to talk about it. Things have changed… they've become complicated."

"Complicated how?"

"Oh come on Hermione. Grow up, things have changed and it's only childish to think that they haven't." She winced and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I'm sorry. It's just… different." Hermione nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry. I'm caught between acting as if nothing's changed and acting as if everything's changed. You'll forgive me, won't you?"

"You're pregnant. I'll forgive almost anything."

"I wish people would stop using that as an excuse for my behavior. Maybe I act crazy on my own."

"Hormones." Angelina shrugged and laughed. "I think you should enjoy it while you can, because you're not going to have an excuse in what, four months?"

"Yes, four months. Who knew time would fly so quickly?"

"Yes, who knew." The echo left the air in the room a tad heavy, and it stretched until the pressure wore on Hermione's nerve.

"So…"

"So. I'm going to let you go. I saw that you finished your chocolate and while we enjoy each other's company… we weren't really close in school, and we're still getting to know each other. We'll try again when we've both had some rest." Hermione tried to find an excuse inside, but couldn't. It was true, and trying to deny it was just really making her uncomfortable.

"Alright, I'll see you later." As the door closed Dobby appeared next to the table and bowed.

"Will Mistress need anything more at this time?"

"Just some toast and jam in an hour in my room."

"As Mistress desires."

"Dobby?" Angelina focused her eyes on the house elf and sighed.

"Mistress?"

"You don't have to call me that."

"I know Mistress, but you're very important to Master Harry, and so you're important to Dobby." Dobby sounded somewhat confused and spoke as if he were talking to a child.

Angelina wanted to debate the validity of that comment but decided to go with better judgment. Rising to her feet, she stretched awkwardly and reached for her cane, one of the many that Harry had made for her. "Tell him I'll be in my room."


	2. Galvanize

He didn't know why it always ended up being this way, but afterwards, after… whatever you wanted to call it happened, he couldn't stand to sleep alone. At least she understood. She didn't say anything, acted as if it was natural, and it was anything but. It was the only time that he admitted that he couldn't do it alone, and allowed her in.

But it was always a brief reprieve, and not even three days later, Angelina woke up in the middle of the night and the large bed would be empty save her, and she would realize that he felt he no longer needed her. It was such a night that she woke from, feeling as if she slept but not at all.

Her back was feeling better than it had in ages, partially due to the herbal tea that allowed her to stay a tad mellower than she seemed to be able to maintain herself these days. 'Luna did say there would be some side effects. You just have to learn to control your temper and not to get so tense.' The words echoed around her head as she dispassionately thought about the impending arrival of her parents.

Just as she buttoned the last button of her pull over, the bedroom door opened quickly and silently. Harry looked surprised as he stopped short, as if he were caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Good morning… I didn't know you'd be awake yet."

"And what would you be doing if I weren't?" She teased lightly, determined not to let this become a fight.

"Checking on you, making sure you're alright." He said honestly, exhaling as if revealing that took a chore almost beyond him. Angelina sighed and shook her head, reaching for her favorite cane, the twisted willow that molded to her hand and mood. As soon as she touched it the cane stiffened itself out and extended to flow over her hand as if chaining her. It was going to be a difficult day.

"I'm fine, as you can see. What do you have planned today? Another trip to England?" Harry frowned and shrugged.

"I haven't decided yet. Do you want anything? If you do you can just-"

"I know, ask Dobby." Angelina finished irritably.

"I was going to say, ask me, but since you've already figured out the answers, I'll just leave you to it." Harry turned and left, his footfalls echoing down the length of the hall. It would be an hour later before Angelina joined him for a meal of some sorts. It was immaculately prepared, but the only people at the table picked at their food as if it were gruel.

The silence gnawed at Angelina until she couldn't sit still. "I'm sorry Harry. I don't know what's come over me."

"You say that all the time like it's an excuse. I would like to know what's gotten into you." He said quietly, putting down his juice and looking her in the eye. Angelina put her fork down and her eyebrow rose.

"And it isn't as if you've been the most emotionally stable person during all this."

"And what is _this_ exactly?" Harry asked, no malice in his voice, but Angelina heard the warning loud and clear. "There is nothing you have to go through except get well. That's all _you_ have to deal with."

"I would think that the love of my life having to go through… having to be… a werewolf would concern me." She said hotly, ignoring the stabbing pain in her back as she tensed.

"So you still love me?" The sheer and abject relief in Harry's voice caused her to pause.

"What?"

"You still love me?" Angelina laughed and pushed her plate away in slight confusion.

"Why would you think I'd stop?"

"Because I'm difficult. I have a difficult life and I've caused you pain." He said simply, shrugging his shoulders as if he had just said the sun was shining and it was a beautiful day.

"Why do you do things to push me away?"

"This is who I am Angelina, and you can't change me."

"We agreed not to lie to each other." She said, crossing her arms.

"I know, but I'm telling the truth. Half the time I have a voice in my head that tells me what I see isn't real, and then another time I have a voice in my head that tells me things are there and I know they're not. I'm going crazy and I think I want to break anything and everything that looks pretty and valuable. That includes you, because you are definitely both to me."

"Am I?" Angelina sighed theatrically, tossing her hair and garnering a smile from Harry. "Look, you know how I feel about you, and I'll tell you when I'm in the mood to change it. Right now you're stuck with me."

"That's something I can live with for a while." He joked; picking up his fork and inhaling half of his omelet in one go. "I have a few things to do today, I'll be back later."

"Let me guess. Just in time to just miss my parents." The tone in her voice stilled his rise from the seat.

"You know I don't feel comfortable with your parents, and frankly they don't appreciate the predicament I have their daughter in." He reminded her gently, noting her jaw still had the stubborn tilt that he had come to admire.

"I do believe I'm of age that it doesn't matter what my parents think."

"You love them too much to really believe that."

"You think you know me." Angelina shook her head as he came around the table and kissed her gently.

"You think I don't, but I do. I'll be back later. Do you want anything?"

"A potted orchid, because I don't see them in the garden. I miss them."

"Alright." Without another word Harry walked out the door, and she sighed as the plates disappeared from the table, leaving a sparkling clean surface, and Angelina wished everything was so easy.

> > > > >

"Are you well?" The formal tone came across very clear, and Angelina's smile tightened slightly.

"Yes mother, I am well." It was something they did in the beginning, the formality, the restraint. It was all so trivial, but you gave in to the games of those who couldn't face the reality head on. You envied them, because they could hide inside of the game; put their pain away, even if for a moment.

"You're still losing too much weight." Viviane twisted the diamond on her ring finger and tried to still her hands, but the nervousness was overwhelming, and they invariably strayed to the sash at her waist, the blush colored fabrictwisting around the slender fingers before falling back to the sapphire dress beneath.

Angelina watched the internal struggle with a faint smile. It was strange, because she didn't feel the way she used to . No longer was the need so prevalent to take on her mother's feelings so she may be the calm and cool person sheremembered. Now she was calm and cool. No, perhaps cold. Other people's emotion no longer invoked emotion inside. Perhaps that was a good thing.

"I'll more than likely gain it back. My appetite comes and goes sometimes. It's the potions; they have a very bitter taste and it ruins the food." She watched tear trickle down the side of her mother's perfect face and felt nothing but freezing cold inside. Quick as a hummingbird her hands rose and brushed it away and it was as if it never happened.

"Your father told me I wasn't to cry, and I won't."

"What did he promise?" Angelina smiled, and her mother huffed, tears forgotten.

"A ten thousand galleon shopping spree at Gladrags and a couple of my favorite boutiques. But it doesn't matter."

"Why not? You love shopping."

"Because I feel like you're not being honest with me." The words swung through the air and left ugly marks on the walls, and as Angelina's smile receded, so did she into her white dress, incidentally reflecting her mother's somewhat. It wasn't physical recoil, more so mental and emotional.

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? You're not happy here. Do you feel that your father and I think you're any different for what happened to you? You're just lucky that you didn't... _turn_ is all I'm saying. Be glad and stop punishing yourself. You're always doing that. Why do you think your father and I never had to do it? _Because you always beat us to the punch_."

"Really. I'm not punishing myself." Angelina took a sip of her tea and let the anger go. "Don't you think you're being dramatic?"

"No, and you're not going to pull that with me young lady. You're still a _young_ lady, in case you've forgotten. I think you've pulled yourself into spinsterhood without enjoying your youth first. That's why I always said it was a mistake for you to marry-"

"Do not insult my dead husband's name please. It doesn't make me …happy." The steel in Angelina's voice caused her mother to take a breath. The light gleamed off of the tightly coiled French roll in her hair, one of the Johnson family heirlooms, a sapphire comb, tucked into the side throwing back the sunlight in searing blue.

"I'm sorry dear. I… I didn't mean what I said."

"Don't worry. I didn't think you did." Angelina lied and Viviane let it pass as much always did between them. "So how is Father?"

"Busy as always. He's dedicated himself to figuring out how that… that _thing_ got onto the premises."

"Werewolves are people too mother."

"So the _thing_ that attacked you, almost killed you, and Harry too I might add, and you stick up for it?"

"No."

"Come home. I think you're a bit too close to the problem to see the solution. Your room is ready, or you can pick any of the houses." She rose to her feet, taking her hat in her hand and pulling on her gloves.

"No, I'll see you next week."

"Why must we continue to do this? Why have you made this place your prison?" Angelina opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. "Listen to me. Just please don't turn your back on life. You still have much to live for, and I still expect a grandchild from you. You're the only Johnson left to carry on the line, and whomever you have to chose will want a whole person, not just the person you let other people see now. That same person I thought you let die when you met Harry again. Perhaps he has become part of the problem daughter." Without another word she walked out of the study.

> > > > >

It was harder and harder to control. The calm that he felt he should hold on to was worming away quicker and quicker. It wasn't fair. Life wasn't fair. It wasn't right that he had some sort of instilled need to make the world better for everyone else, but not for himself. When it came to his own happiness… he just regretted not doing things when he had the chance. Because he was always saving the world.

Saving the world. The bitterness rang out in the silence, and the forest no longer had the peaceful feeling it did before his thoughts turned inward. This wasn't pity. Pity had no reason, no one to blame but the pitied… this was karmic wrong. A flock of birds took flight, and the distant hoof beats told of the centaurs moving around not too far away.

They wouldn't bother him, not with the pact they held after Hogwarts was invaded. They wouldn't dare bother him now, not when they realized they had someone more powerful than Dumbledore on their hands. His life became a lot easier when he bowed to his power, his fame and his fortune. But it also made him feel cheap, as if he took the easy way out.

"And what's wrong with that every once in a while? Why can't I enjoy something without giving something up first?" Harry asked aloud, and the trunk of the tree he was gazing at buckled under his power. Taking a deep breath he released his will and the tree stopped splintering. Nature didn't do what happened to him. It was a specific person who caused everything to happen. Verbatim Whitman.

"That's not totally fair." His balanced side said out loud, that calm voice that always spoke up when the insanity started with the melancholy. But he didn't want to listen today. He always listened. He always watched the door, felt the danger coming. Warned the others, worried and worried… what did it get him? A dead family in the ground, no one knowing but him. What type of life was that? A beautiful woman who was willing to give her happiness up for him, so he could be happy. That wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want to sacrifice anymore. Sacrifice… such a dirty word that was shined up to be pretty and noble. There is nothing noble about losing something you love and cherish.

"That means you're weak." There. He said it finally. The one thing he feared all along. He was too weak to find his own happiness… too weak to hold on to it. That's why Ginny died, that's why Angelina stays in a large house pining for her freedom and her life. Because he was weak. As soon as he came to the conclusion, something inside of him loosed and he stood up, looking around with new eyes. He knew what he had to do.

> >

Ron closed the fridge and allowed a red eyebrow to rise slowly. "Am I really seeing you or are you sending a projection again?"

"You said you wouldn't tell anybody about that." Harry smiled and stepped further into the room.

"And I haven't. How are you feeling?" He asked, putting down the plate he held and grabbing his firewhiskey and abruptly pouring two glasses.

"I'm far enough in front of a full moon to where I don't feel as edgy. My neck isn't bothering me right now, which is good. How are you doing?"

"Just getting by I supposed. I swear, Whitman has it in for me. We took some of our end exams." The contents of the glasses were consumed without speaking, and without either looking at each other. "But enough about stupid stuff, what's on your mind?"

"Who's to say I didn't stop by to visit?"

"Because you've stopped visiting."

"So have you."

"Only because you make me feel bad." Harry nodded slowly and shrugged.

"It's a gift I suppose." Ron laughed picked up his sandwich again.

"Do you want anything?"

"No, I ate before I came." He lied smoothly, and followed his friend into the living room. "I keep thinking about that night. Something's off about it."

Ron took a huge bite, almost cutting the sandwich in half in one go. "I think about it too… usually when I'm trying to forget it." He said around the food.

"I can't forget it."

"I know." Ron swallowed and he sighed. "I didn't mean to sound like I was trying to put it past me. I know it's something you have to deal with for the rest of your life."

"Yeah, it is… but that's not what I'm talking about. I see it too, every time I blink, or try to go to sleep. I don't blame you for trying to forget. If I could, I would."

" So what about that night sticks out as strange, other than the fact that the bastard turned you into a werewolf with a totally out of the blue attack? I mean, you had nothing against Fenrir because every indication we had showed that he was being used… we left him alone. Lupin asked that we didn't go after any werewolves so whatwas his malfunction?"

"You've thought of this before, haven't you?" Harry accused him, half pleased that someone was thinking about him.

"Of course. The whole two weeks you were almost dying I thought about it. What I don't understand is how did Greyback know that you were going to be at that party? How did he know to target Angelina or was she just a random choice because she saw the deer? I've ran these through my mind a dozen times, and nothing stands out other than the oddness."

"I wonder… does Hermione keep a pensive? Mine was stolen, remember?"

"Stupid Rita Skeeter. I wish I could have been there when they obliviated her." Ron said venomously. "That was below foul when she took it."

"That's in the past. She's forgotten where she's put it, so I need another one. I need to stop running from that night and pick it apart. That's what we're trained for right? To see what others wouldn't?" Harry smiled and leaned back onto the arm of the couch. "At least, that's what you're trained for."

"Blimey Harry, if you would just talk to the minister, I'm sure that he would allow you back in the program. I mean, really… Lupin comesin and out ofthe Ministry all the time and he's a known werewolf. No one is going to care, and the Daily Prophet is showing that most of the wizarding world wouldn't either. You're changing public opinion, and it's time you used that to do something _you_ want for a change."

"I need to figure out what I _want_ to do first."

"Bullocks. You already know what you want to do. You knew before you got here. The thing is, are you going to clue me in before you go off by yourself, or do I have to resort to detective work to track you down?"

"I haven't decided yet. You can't come along this time Ron. You have a wife and a family on the way… and a job that you said yourself, you can't afford to lose." Ron clenched his jaw and thought carefully over his words before proceeding.

"Harry, you do know that I would go to hell with you and back. You do understand that right?"

"Ron-"

"The one thing you haven't had to ask for was my cooperation. I've been a bit pig headed at times, and sometimes I don't know how to deal with my own emotions. I'm a coward half of the time and the other time I'm so afraid I can't feel it. But I would go to the end of the earth and back with you, because I owe you so much." He said quietly, and Harry stared at him.

"You can't sacri- give your life like that anymore. It's no longer yours."

"Rubbish!"

"It belongs to Hermione, and the baby girl you're going to have. I appreciate the offer, but I have to do this alone. I will kill him when I find him. No trial, no restraint. I will pull his intestines out by his navel, and I will laugh as he dies." Ron paled at the graphic description and knew that Harry was being deadly honest.

"All I ask is that you bring me back his head… somehow that Hermione doesn't see. She doesn't like the sight of blood right now." Ron unexpectedly winked and Harry laughed, the serious feel going out of the conversation.

"Speaking of which, or should I say _witch _, where is 'Mione?"

"Staying late finishing up some filing. She leaves work on leave in a couple of weeks. I honestly hope that Ministry doesn't collapse while she's gone."

"I'm sure it will." Harry rubbed his eyes and laughed. "Hermione is the crutch of sanity and competency to their lame invalid of idiocy."

"Goodness, that's a metaphor for the locker room. I'll have to write that down." Ron laughed and poured some more firewhiskey.

> > > > >

She wasn't supposed to be down here, but the almost perfect photographic memory allowed to her to evade capture this far. All she needed to know was if it were real or not. Hermione pulled her wand out of her hair, the bun it was holding up cascading down her back as she tapped the lock and found it free of charms. Perhaps no one was supposed to get this far. Really… the arrogance of these people….

The cupboard pulled open easily, and the book laid there, mocking her in its dusty stillness. If her calculations were correct… she only had about five minutes to find the manuscript and leave without rousing suspicion. If she were found she would be killed without question. Skimming quickly, discarding useless yet fascinating research, she found herself unable to breathe as she pulled the yellowed parchment from the book, sandwiched in between pages that were so old that they felt as if they'd fall to dust if they were breathed on too hard.

Hazarding a look over her shoulder, she shoved the precious pages in her bosom and closed the cupboard back, and walked out. She couldn't properly breathe until she had made it past the spells, and the guards and the security and the aurors who watched her fly by in a barely concealed run for her freedom, and the freedom of someone else.

> >

Luna looked up and the Floo leaped to life, and she frowned as she saw who entered. "Hermione, you're not supposed to be traveling by Floo. I thought we talked about this?" She asked, rising from her seat.

"I'm sorry." Was all she said as she held out what she found. Luna gazed at her briefly before looking down at what she held in her hand.

"What's this?"

"Just read it." She opened it and started reading. Halfway through she had to stumble to her chair, never once taking her eyes off of the paper.

"This can't be real."

"Why not? You don't think it's authentic?"

"No, because the author has been dead for over a century and I've read all of his work. I would have remembered this." Luna folded it and handed it back, shaking her head. "It couldn't be real."

"Why not? I'm not totally inept in the medical field. He's onto something." She said as she sat down across from the blonde.

"Hermione, he's on to more than something. I… where did you get it?"

"I can't say. I know they're already looking for it." That alone told Luna what she needed to know.

"We need to talk, but not here. Meet me at my house in an hour. If you're not coming send an owl with a purple string on its left leg. If I don't receive that I will assume that you're dead and I will go blast the Ministry of Magic to rubble. Are we clear?" Luna smoothed her Medic robes and stood. "I have my rounds to finish." Hermione nodded and looked at the paper, suddenly afraid.


	3. Frustrations

The door opened and Wolfric smiled hugely. "Hermione; how is the glowing mother to be?" He asked, allowing her into the vaulted foyer. She smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek, ignoring the brightly teal robes he wore with unabashed flair.

"I'm fine, thank you for asking. Is your wife home?"

"Luna is about somewhere. Feel free to go on upstairs. Do you require anything?" He asked, taking her cloak and hanging it on a stuffed pelican that sat on a mahogany table.

"No, not at the moment."

"There you are. You like to cut things close, don't you?" Luna asked as she walked down the stairs. Her gaze softened as Wolfric cleared his throat slightly.

"I'll see you in a couple of hours love. Be nice." He held his hand out to her and she took it playfully, laughing as he pulled her into a fierce hug and a kiss before departing. The love was evident on her face as Luna watched her husband leave the house, whistling a Weird Sisters song off key.

"I'm sorry; I had to give Ron a reason not to come. I had to almost convince him he was tired." Hermione pulled the parchment into the air and sighed. "What is this Luna?"

"I don't think we should talk here. In my office down the hall is a more appropriate venue." As soon as the door was shut behind them, Luna crossed her arms and stared into space. "I think I'm being watched."

Hermione looked at her and chose her words carefully. "…And how do you know?"

"I just have a feeling, and I've learned years ago to go with my gut instinct. This house was built by my father, and even in his most paranoid seasons, he was very shrewd. This room is Unobservable. Cost quite a bit of money, since the charms necessary were beyond his grasp, but he paid a good Knut to ensure that he wasn't being overheard. Quite a bit of important business got handled here."

"I see. Maybe I'm wrong, but this looks like a cure for Lycanthropy." Hermione opened the parchment gently, blowing some of the dust off. The ink shimmered in Never Fade Ink, but the charm was taking a toll on the paper. Sometimes smart people forgot simple things.

"It is and it isn't." Luna took it and skimmed over it. "We're going to have to transfer this to another medium. Was there anything else with it?"

"No. I mean, there was a book full of things that looked interesting, but none of it had Boris Varikjard's handwriting. It seems that Nicolas Flamel had something to do with the research as well."

"Yes, he was a patron of advancements of spell casting. He funded quite a few programs at St. Mungos, and an award is handed out in his name when you graduate from the Academy."

"So this is a cure." Hermione said excitedly.

"I would have to run some tests to even know exactly what this is. I mean, theoretically speaking Varikjard mixed some things in interesting ways that I hadn't thought of… but that doesn't mean that he found a cure. Why would the Ministry bury the research?"

"Well, that I'm not sure of, but the only people who would know about it are Nicolas Flamel, who has been dead for almost ten years… Dumbledore who has been dead for almost five… and Varikjard himself who died… when?"

"Almost ninety years ago. I'm sure that with some proper research we can piece together what he was doing… that is if we can find all the ingredients, let alone a course of action. A potion is nothing without a method of employ. A muggle can mix potion ingredients together. What makes it a potion is the magic and procedure used to bring the magical properties out of things we use and see every day. This isn't going to be an overnight venture."

"I didn't think it was… but perhaps we could have it ready by the next full moon?"

"And then what?" Luna looked at her coolly. "And then we try it on Harry? If I rush through this and make a mistake, or worse we find out the reason why it was buried because it was a highly dangerous thing that did nothing to cure lycanthropy what then? I'm not willing to do that, and you shouldn't either."

"But with this, and our brains, we should be able to work out any kinks that might come up. Please Luna, we have to try." Hermione pleaded, tears slipping down her face. The blonde's glare softened into sadness.

"I want to see Harry cured too, as well as hundreds, maybe thousands of others around the world… but if I don't do this correctly, if we don't sit back and take a gander at what we're doing before we do it… it could be dire consequences for the both of us. I'm looking into starting a private practice, you're about to give birth. Both of those plans could come to an abrupt end if the Ministry gets wind of this."

"I know… I just couldn't help myself." Hermione wiped her eyes and shivered slightly. "I came across some dusty files while I was looking for a deed concerning some Ministry land. Someone misfiled a request to change the jurisdiction of the research. It wasn't signed, but I'll do some more digging to find out who created the request."

"I don't know if that's wise." Luna said quietly, absently reaching over and pouring them both a cup of tea. "I don't want you drawing attention to yourself."

"You don't understand Luna; I have access to almost every article of parchment that walks through the Minister's office. I see it before he does, and if I suddenly stop doing "research" then I'll look suspicious." She laughed and sighed, her mood burgeoning quickly before deflating.

"Let me look over this, and I can map out some sort of plan of action… that way we're not just looking like idiots, bungling ourselves through this."

"Agreed. So how are you doing Luna?" Hermione took her cup of tea gratefully.

"I've been pretty good, thanks for asking. Wolfric has another four clients added to his list, so he's floating on a cloud. When he's happy, I'm happy." She said simply.

"I think that's the way we were programmed." Hermione quipped, nodding. "I feel the same way about Ron. I think everything's easier when they're happy."

"Here here." Luna raised her cup for cheers. "But I must admit, for some reason, I have been missing Neville a lot lately."

"Perhaps the recent activities in all of our lives bring back that…" Hermione trailed off as she groped for the word.

"That tenseness that we associate with the last years of Hogwarts. The time of the invasion. I think you're right. Whenever I'm stressed, I find myself reaching for Neville's hand… but he's not here."

"No, he's not. A lot of people aren't here."

"Why us Hermione? Why did we survive? Why not Neville instead of me? Or Hannah, Ginny… any number of friends that we've lost."

"Grief changes your memories… I find myself missing random people… people whom I hadn't much more than a passing acquaintance with. People I didn't particularly like become almost saintly when I think back at before."

"Before." Luna snorted, disgust written on her face. "Before they took our childhood. To live in interesting times indeed."

"How has your father been as of late?" Hermione asked, in attempts to change the subject.

"He lost the battle, and he now rests next to my mother."

"Oh Luna, I'm sorry." She was horrified, but the Luna shrugged.

"I do believe he is happier now. I'm used to losing people."

"Why didn't you tell me… or Ron or Harry… anybody?"

"Because none of you really knew my father… and I don't want polite condolences. I got enough of that from his former colleagues. I just…." The blonde shrugged again pulled the pins out of her up do, leaning further into the chair and pointed her wand at the fireplace where the logs burst into a cheery flame.

Hermione watched the fire for a second, her thoughts racing at the rate of the crackle of the wood. "I know I didn't know your father, but I hope you know I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you Hermione, but I'm fine, really." She rose and stretched. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to lie down. It's been a busy day, and just as I was winding down you dropped a pretty large surprise on my lap."

"I'm sorry." She said sheepishly, but Luna waved her off.

"Don't worry about it. I don't think I could have gotten through the finishing rounds without your discovery shocking me awake. Now that I've made it home, the need to fall on my face has reasserted itself."

"Get some rest Luna, and please, if you need to talk, know you can come by at any time. The office or the flat… it doesn't matter."

"I'll keep that in mind. Do you know your way out?"

"I can find it."

"Then finish your tea." Luna picked up the research from the end table next to the chair and walked out of the study, leaving Hermione to her thoughts.

> > > > >

"Good to see you Angel."

"You too George." Angelina smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek. Her heart didn't ache as much as it did when she used to see him. Couldn't stand to be around him for long periods of time at first, because her brain would forget that her twin was dead, and George stood before her looking for the entire world for the man that was now in the cold earth.

"What made you call for me?" He asked, taking off his hat and cloak, revealing the dark green snakeskin suit that matched perfectly with his shoulder length red hair. With a flourish he produced a bouquet of calla lilies out of thin air, her favorite flower.

"To see you do that one more time, and just to talk." She said as he walked down the scant four steps into the garden, ambling down the pebbled path to sit on the bench with her. He gave her the flowers and promptly stretched out to get comfortable.

"Just to talk… well Angel, I've grown to know when you want to just chat you'll send an owl… but when you asked me here, you had something specific you either wanted to ask me, or wanted to ask _of _me. Which is it?"

Angelina looked at him in slight surprise. A George who was serious was a George who got to the point. "A little of both, I believe."

"Then spill it darling. Then we can get to the chatting part because it truly has been too long since I've laid eyes on you." He tossed his hair dramatically and she shook her head.

"Still the same old George I see."

"They took almost everything else, I couldn't give them that." No one would ask who _they_ were, so the conversation ground on.

"I wanted you to keep… an eye out on Harry."

"Angel..."

"What?" She asked indignantly. "I'm worried!"

"Angel, let's not do this."

"You only call me Angel in rapid succession when you're going to turn me down."

"Good. I'm glad you know that. So how's the weather in Wales? Alicia is begging me to bring her here on Holiday, and I'm not trying to come during the rainy season." He looked around the flower garden and then back at her. "What? We're not talking about that anymore."

"Why not!" Angelina asked, crossing her arms.

"Because you don't trail Harry… he always finds out, and then he, not maliciously I might add, makes your life difficult for a while."

"You're afraid of him." She huffed, trying her hardest not to pout.

"Yes, and you would be too if you've seen some of the things he can do." George cursed himself inwardly for saying something so stupid. "No, I'm just talking out of my arse. Ignore me. The store has been really hectic. I have to come up with products, test them myself, and while Alicia picks out packaging… she's running out of the store more and more to check on the twins because she doesn't think my mother knows what she's doing. I tell her… but she doesn't listen."

"She doesn't want _her_ twins to come out like you and Fred."

"What's wrong with Fred and I?" Angelina looked at him fondly, taking his hand and looking out over the neatly manicured grass.

"Absolutely nothing."

"Good. Is that it?" He asked, playing with one of the petals on her flowers.

"Don't do that, and yes, since you refuse to do what I ask… and it's such a small thing." George looked at her as she batted her eyelashes.

"Are you worried he's cheating on you?" She closed her mouth in surprise.

"Uh… I don't think we're together to even say he's cheating…" Angelina never thought of that…

"We're not going down road. Harry doesn't have a cheating bone in his body. Are you afraid that he's killing people?"

"That's not Harry… and he takes his potion when he's supposed to, so he basically stays over there during that… time." They looked at the section in the far part of the garden, with the high fence that shimmered unnaturally. It had no door or any conceivable way to enter the area.

"What is that?"

"An Inpotentia Fence. It exists in every way it needs to, when it needs to."

"Charlie told me those were impossible to get without a permit and a certificate of permission from the Department of Mysteries."

"Harry had it installed in twenty four hours." George whistled and smiled.

"And you wonder why I won't tail him. First of all, he'll spot me in a second." He pointed at his head. "The Weasley Red is unmistakable to him. He could pick us out of a crowd of redheads."

"It is more orange than anything." Angelina jabbed slightly, and he took the insult without missing a heartbeat.

"It's like that sometimes. Are you taking your potions?"

"What, has Luna kept everyone abreast of what I have to do every day?" She asked irritably, and George held his hands up.

"Hey, don't jump down my throat. I just ask because I'm concerned."

"I know, it's just… cabin fever. I don't get out much because Harry's worried."

"He's making you stay here?"

"Not quite making me stay… but he won't let me go." George thought over what she said.

"So you don't want to leave without him?"

"You're reminding me of when we were in school. You keep saying what I meant to say instead of what I said."

"Hey, it's a gift." He shrugged and smiled. "But seriously, you're free to move about the world."

"I just have to make sure that I'm back when Harry gets back, so he can make sure that I'm okay. So he can check and make sure that nothing else is wrong with me." She said bitterly.

"Are you upset that someone is paying so much attention to you?"

"It's not that, because Fred liked to lavish attention… but he knew when to give me my space." Angelina corrected.

"You'll have to remember who you're dealing with. Harry has lost a good many people in this world, and he refuses to lose you too." George squinted in the setting sun, the light peeking through the leaves in the gently blowing breeze.

"Maybe I'm too selfish to be with him."

"Or maybe you're slaving yourself to a memory that cannot be anymore. I think if I can process the fact that Fred is gone, then so can you." He said bluntly.

"George-"

"No Angel. You think you lost your other half? I lost part of myself. We all have to move on. He's looking down at us, laughing when we trip, or spray pumpkin juice through our noses." Angelina laughed slightly, wiping the tears from her cheek. "I'm not saying that to be cruel, because that's not my intention… but I can't let you mope like this anymore. Even when you're happy… you don't let your whole soul be happy. You're always mourning, and that's not helping."

"You sound like my mother." Angelina sniffed.

"I do believe my voice would be a little higher, don't you think?"

"Shut up George."

"Whatever you say Angel."

> > > > >

Harry woke up with a start and looked around. He was still at Ron and Hermione's flat. There was no moon, so the unobstructed view of the sky didn't scare him as it usually did now. Rubbing his face to wake up fully, he realized that someone placed a blanket on him while he dozed on the couch. Hermione more than likely; since Ron's hospitality extended to pointing out where the lavatory could be found.

He had a crick in his neck from the odd angle he had his head resting, and as his fingers brushed against the raised scars he pulled his hand down and just stretched extra hard to make up for it. "Leaving?" Harry whirled around and gathered his will, wand in hand before he took another breath.

Hermione walked into the living room, smiling slightly. "I haven't seen you do that in a while."

"I haven't had need to do it in front of you." He said, stowing it away and folding up the blanket. "Thanks for the cover."

"Never a problem Harry, and I wish you would visit more."

"I will eventually."

"You keep saying that." He looked at her briefly before putting the poorly folded blanket on the couch.

"We're not going to get into this right now. Could you just be plain concerned, instead of hiding what you're feeling in your nagging? I can't deal with it right now."

"Well excuse me." She paused and laughed. "I do that?"

"When you're upset you do. I didn't mean to disturb you if I did." Hermione shook her head and closed some books on the coffee table.

"Not at all. Sometimes I can't sleep."

"Well, you need all the sleep you can get." He said. "I worry about you sometimes."

"Harry, I don't need you to worry about me anymore. I just worry about _you_."

"Don't. You don't need to."

"Why is every conversation we have turning into a chore? Why do you push me away?" She asked bluntly. Harry smiled slightly in the darkness. There were times when he wondered if the sorting hat did a good job by placing her in Gryffindor. He realized it during others that it was perfectly aligned with her personality.

"I don't know if I can be comfortable with your worry."

"Why? Because you think it's not warranted?" She asked shrilly.

"No, because I think it is. I don't have anything to look forward to. No ending Hermione." He said, sinking down to the couch. Harry ran his hands through his hair and looked at the brown vase that sat on the coffee table. "This adventure for me isn't going to end. It's going to keep happening, and happening, until it wrings the life from me like it has done Lupin."

"That's what you're afraid of, that you'll end up looking like Lupin?" He glared at her briefly.

"I would hope you wouldn't think me that superficial. I mean… he doesn't have any energy to do much of anything. He's been a werewolf since he was nine. NINE Hermione…. It's cut his life expectancy in half almost."

"You're scared." Hermione whispered, sitting next to him awkwardly. "Look… you have a larger support group than Lupin had. He had just four people, but you have more. The Weasley's alone more than covering that."

"I know. I'm still terrified. I'm scared that the fence isn't going to hold… that someone is going to get hurt. That I'm going to bite someone else and they're cursed as I am just as I was, by no fault of their own. I wonder if what I'm feeling is really me or is if it is the lycanthropy… I spend most of my time double guessing myself. I'm sick of it."

"Then rely that you are Harry, and not your lycanthropy."

"What you don't seem to understand is your rationale isn't going to allow you to really know what's going on in my head… and as close as we were, you had no clue what was going through my head at my most normal."

"As close as we _were_?" She repeated him unhappily.

"All that I said, and that's what you heard." He shook his head and stood, scratching at his neck. "I'll see you later Hermione."

"Wait Harry." She said, rising and walking back over to the dining table, where a package laid wrapped in plain brown paper and tied with a string. "Ron told me you needed a pensive." Harry caught it as it sailed through the air.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He picked up his cloak and Hermione reached her hand out and to grab his arm. "I pry because you don't tell me. I know I don't know what's going through your head, and truthfully I don't need to know everything. You've stopped sharing with Ron and me, even what little you did before everything. All I ask is that you find someone you can talk to, even if it's not Ron and I. Okay?"

"Go to bed Hermione." He said irritably, jerking his elbow out of her grip and without a word, he was gone, ignoring the anti apparition wards that were laid in the flat.

> > > > >

"And what would you have done if I hadn't woken up?" She asked quietly, and Harry shrugged. The past couple of days had him thinking, and while he wasn't a coward, he didn't know if he were brave enough to do what he was attempting. "I haven't seen you in almost a week."

"I'm sorry. Business to take care of." He moved into the soft firelight, and Angelina could swear that his eyes glowed. "Would you mind if I spent the night with you?"

"The whole night?" Harry winced slightly at the reference to his past behavior.

"To the best of my ability." Angelina smiled and nodded.

"I would like that greatly." He slid under the covers and released a breath he didn't know he held. "Are you comfortable?"

"Sort of." The truth came out unapologetically.

"Do you need more pillows?"

"No."

"Covers?"

"No."

"Does the fire need to go out? Or perhaps it needs to be brighter?"

"No, no. I'm fine." Harry shook his head and gently pulled her towards him. Angelina closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest, hearing the wild heartbeat in her ears. It slowed dramatically until it was at a restful pace. "I think I'm comfortable now." He said, his voice muffled by her hair.

"I'm glad. It took you long enough." They both laughed quietly, drowsing in each others arms.


	4. Motion

"What? I didn't hear you."

"I asked if I could turn my head. It's kind of hard to be heard with a pillow over my face." Angelina shifted uneasily.

"That's fine, but when I start no more moving." Luna pulled out her wand and touched it to the prone woman's spine. "Are you ready?"

"Will it hurt?"

"No. You will feel slightly uncomfortable though."

"Oh, so same as always."

"Yes, same as always." Angelina closed her eyes and breathed deeply as a feeling of something cold and vaguely wet was being pulled from her lower back. "You were right; I'm resisting the urge to scratch."

"Do so. Usually we have people restrained when we do this. Most cannot truly boast of the muscle control needed to do it unaided."

"What's getting me through is the fact that one day soon I'll be on a broom again." She opened her eyes and grimaced.

"Almost… done."

"Good." Luna smiled and ran her wand down the length of Angelina's back, and nodded and scratched some notes with her quill. She repeated the same process as before, peeling away the second spell, stubborn and as tight as new leather. Angelina hissed and forced herself not to tense.

"I'm pleased to tell you that the spell removal was successful, and you are indeed healed. Congratulations." She sat up and turned around, and moved delicately, lifting her arms over her head and bending backwards.

"It feels heavenly to do that." Angelina laughed and shrugged her shoulders. "For the past six months just stretching was a chore. I must say though, the whole ordeal finally did something my mother wanted all along."

"What's that?" Luna asked as she packed her instruments.

"It fixed my posture." The two women laughed and Luna handed Angelina a vial. "For Harry?"

"Yes. I know he'll need it soon. Did you have any questions about what we talked about?" Angelina shook her head. "Alright then, I'm due back at Mungos."

"Thank you Luna. For everything. I know you go out of your way to do these house calls. I really appreciate it."

"I just want you both to know you mean a great deal to me." Angelina was taken aback.

"The both of us? Why me? We didn't know each other in school."

"I know, but it was hard not to know _of you_ and well… Harry has deemed you important, so you are. Good day." Luna left her to ponder the meaning of that statement.

> > > > >

Getting out of the carriage, it was easy to see in the mind's eye the old Hogwarts. It rose as majestically as it always did, soaring turrets and towers, statues looking down at her with benign intentions… then the mind would shift, and her eyes could pick out the new brickwork, a tower where it wasn't when she started on her journey at Hogwarts. "Is Madam going inside?" The coachman asked patiently, noticing the tears that glistened in her eyes.

"Yes, yes. I'm sorry." She handed him her fare and walked up the steps and into the lobby. It was quiet now, classes in session, scattered Prefects on free period and the occasional frightened looking first year was all she encountered as she made her way to the newly formed Defense Against The Dark Arts classroom.

Hermione smiled and touched some slight scorching that someone missed, a reminder to the brave fight three fourth years had before falling to Voldermort's followers. The door opened just as her hand touched the cool metal, and a room full of eager students gazed at her with the desperate attention of those who wanted distraction from their current lecture.

"Mrs. Weasley, how good of you to join us today." Lupin said easily, setting down the skull he had in his hand.

"I'm sorry; I was told you had a free period. I can come back later." She said, horrified that she interrupted a lesson. The professor shook his head quickly.

"No need. I was almost finished here. The schedule has changed; my free period was pushed back. Children, do we know who this is?" A few hands rose in the room, and one overly eager, reminding Hermione painfully of her. "Nerys, do you know?"

"That is Hermione Weasley, nee Granger." Nerys answered primly, the self satisfied smirk of one who thought herself clever above her class. "She was instrumental in the Invasion four years ago."

"That is correct. Ten points for Hufflepuff."

"Why does she get points for a question that any of us could have answered? How could you not know her, their picture was all over the Daily Prophet for years?" A ruddy faced boy with dark brown hair said with a sour expression.

"Donald, I didn't ask you the question, so you don't get awarded the point. If we have to go over the rules again, I'll have you for detention. No talking out of turn until discussion time." Lupin frowned slightly as the low bell rang twice, signaling the end of class. "Please read the last half of chapter 8, and I expect a foot of parchment on today's subject. Good day ladies and gentlemen." The class rose and the noise level mirrored the action as the kids filed out of the classroom quickly.

"I am sorry Professor, I wasn't told of the change in schedule." Hermione said, slightly red at being put on display in front of so many people.

"As I said, not a problem. The change only happened today. What can I do for you Mrs. Weasley? Are you taking care of yourself?" He asked as they walked towards the back of his class, and up the stairs to the private office.

"Of course. Everyone keeps asking me that same question, but how could I not with Molly hanging over my shoulder, looking to see if the imaginary plate I seem to carry around with me is empty. I swear she wants me to puff up to at least 80 kilos."

Remus laughed and sat down heavily in his chair behind his desk. "That would be interesting to see… tea?"

"No thank you." Hermione looked at him briefly, and looked away.

"You don't know how to start off the conversation that you want to have, is that right?" He asked, face searching hers. She nodded, sighing and leaning back in the chair across from him. "I would think you would trust me enough to know that you cannot injure my pride, nor offend me, so out with it."

"I… I want to ask something that might be perceived as rude." Hermione started slow, trying to build to her question.

"And since when has that mattered to you?" He saw the look on her face and laughed. "I'm sorry, it's just that you're tiptoeing around the issue, and I've never seen you do that. You're blunt and to the point, which is why I'm terribly intrigued now."

"I want to know if your… haggardness of appearance is due to the fact that you're a werewolf, or is it because that werewolves are usually unable to sustain employment due to discrimination." Hermione said all in one breath, obviously glad she got it out of her system.

"What you're asking is if Harry can expect to look like an old man before his time." She nodded and laughed mirthlessly.

"I torture myself with scenarios I run in my mind, ways that his life is going to play out. I want to know if it's different for everyone, or is it the same. I don't know of any other werewolves I can ask."

"It's not as hard to talk about it as you think. It's not my fault that I was bitten… I was just a child. The transformations are intensely painful, mentally and physically exhausting, and disturbing every time you do it. It takes a little out of your body each time… so in a way you're well off if you already have a fair amount of magical energy to work with… but if you don't have so much…" The rest of the statement died on the air, and Hermione looked out of the window, which overlooked the space between the school and the Quidditch pitch.

"If you had a cure… would you take it?" She asked finally, and was surprised slightly by the look on his face. It was a cross between anger and resentment before being swallowed up in indifference. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"I know you didn't. Sometimes I wonder if you were placed in Ravenclaw, would you think more about what you're about to say before you say it." Remus inhaled and looked at the ceiling. "Of course I would. I would be insane not to... But what concerns me is that you wouldn't ask this of me blindly… which means either you're judging my mental state or you really have a cure. Which is it?"

"It is neither, and I'm sorry." Hermione stood. "I just… I just wanted to know… I don't know what I wanted to know."

"Look, Harry is a fairly strong young man, and I never had the chance to really measure the level of raw magical power he has. With or without lycanthropy he has a long life ahead of him. He'll get used to it eventually, and when he pulls himself out of his pity, he'll see there is a new world of people he could help." Lupin sighed and rotated his neck gingerly. "The full moon is coming."

"…I know. "

> > > > >

Ron pulled back the hood of his cloak, and as soon as his red hair cleared, the door opened in front of him. He glanced back at Harry and they both walked in, Harry keeping an eye at the moving shadows behind them. "Blimey, I do hate Knockturn Alley. You get a bad reputation by just turning down here by accident." Ron said, pulling his cloak off.

"The only people down this particular turn are witches of ill repute."

"That's a nice word for it." Both men turned to the sound of the voice. It was a familiar one, worn by the events of past years. Padma Patil smiled wanly and swept both Ron and Harry into a brief hug. "It's been a while since we've been in the same room."

"Under anything less than dire circumstances… I was told you went back to India." Ron said, digging his hand into a cookie jar that appeared on the table next to him.

"For a while, but my home was here… I couldn't leave England. I've grown accustomed to the rain." She said humorlessly, looking at Harry. "I heard."

"I thought you would have." He said evenly, involuntarily scratching at his neck underneath the collar. Padma Patil was hard to look at. Not that she wasn't beautiful with her liquid brown eyes and almost impossibly long raven hair. It was the face that caused his heart to beat, because he saw Dean hold Parvati in his arms as she died.

"I've heard quite a many things. That's my job now." She motioned for them to follow her.

"I need some information. Hopefully you can help us." Ron pulled a small piece of parchment out of his vest pocket and slid it across the large oak desk that dominated the room that was Padma's office. She took a look at it and an eyebrow rose.

"Verbatim Whitman? What has he done to warrant suspicion?"

"It's more of a feeling really." Harry shrugged and looked back at her from the curious pieces on the mantle. "I can't say that he's done anything but be a self absorbed egotistical maniac."

"Fair enough."

"I don't know… maybe I was wrong to come here. I can't investigate someone because of a bad feeling."

"If you can't, who can?" Ron shrugged. "I trust your judgment. Now, if you were constantly petty and mean, then I wouldn't advise it. This is a last resort." Padma smiled and sat down in her chair.

"I'll take the case."

"About your fee-" She held her hand up, stilling Harry's words.

"Don't be so crass as to assume I'm going to ask a knut of you. _This_… this I'll do for free."

"Nothing fancy mind… just some financial reports, anything you think we'll find interesting, anything you find interesting… the like." Ron nodded. "That's easy, right?"

"As easy as sneaking out of Ravenclaw Tower at midnight." He nodded and walked out of the room, leaving Padma and Harry staring at each other.

"I'm sorry." He said hesitantly.

"Sorry for what?"

"Not... not being fast enough. Sorry that she got hit instead of me." Harry shrugged and sat down at in one of the two chairs in front of the desk. "I've heard you've been looking around for Death Eaters."

"I want them all to die." She said simply, eyes never leaving his. Harry nodded, understanding.

"I just hope that it doesn't... turn into an obsession." The answering smile he saw didn't reach past her nose, the eyes slightly frosted.

"I do believe I'm no longer on suicide watch. I no longer obsess."

"Don't lie to me." Harry's voice was a whisper, but the air changed and it was Padma that looked away first.

"It can't happen again Harry. The Death Eaters came back into power because the stupid adults thought that they did enough, and they could go home to their lives. You and I both know it's never really over." He nodded slowly, adjusting his collar.

"But don't make it your life."

"I watch you too, you know."

"I've seen one of your people. Tell the one with the blond hair, he tries to look too inconspicuous. I spotted him immediately. And why are you watching me?"

"Because I was worried. You can't go into hiding."

"And why the hell not?" He didn't bother correcting the fact that he wasn't in hiding. He couldn't lie to her after telling her she shouldn't lie to him.

"Because you're different from everyone else. With great power comes duty to protect those who can't. I watch. I watch and wait, because if someone gets it in their head that they would fancy themselves the new Dark Lord, then I would make sure that they're put in his place. If I recall, there wasn't even a body left, was there?"

Harry shook his head, eyes unfocused as he remembered the last moment of Voldermort's life on earth. "No, I couldn't be that stupid. I made sure Ron burned the body. I couldn't even trust Hermione to do it. I went to his family's plot and banished every piece of bone that was left. I wasn't going to let the same thing happen again."

"That's all I'm trying to do." Padma twisted the rings on her index finger, a sapphire with a raven on the sliver band and a ruby with a lion on the gold band. The rings that her father gave her and Parvati when they got their acceptance letters to Hogwarts.

"Just... just make sure you don't start to find that the shadow is easier to live in than the light. Trust me, it makes it awfully hard to be happy."

"My happiness died when my twin did. My heart no longer beat the way it did, and I can no longer look at the world as a shining place. But just because I can't doesn't mean I'm not prepared to die to make sure no one else goes through the same thing I went through... the same thing we went through." She said quietly. The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silence, and Harry nodded.

"Be safe Padma."

"You too Harry."

> > > > >

Harry searched around his cloak for a trinket he found for Angelina, before pushing the door open to his bedroom. He whirled around, wand in hand and face emotionless. It was Angelina, wildly joyful as she crossed the space between them and threw her arms around him.

"Harry, you're home!" She kissed his cheek and laughed, not letting him go.

"Yes, Angelina… you don't have your walking stick…. What's in your hair?" He pulled back and removed a couple of twigs that were lodged in her curls. "Have you fallen? How long have you been outside?"

"I'm fine. I've been flying for the past few hours. It's so good to be back on a broom!" Angelina laughed again and kissed him on the lips. "Luna came by and said that it was time to remove the spells on my spine. I'm healed, everything went perfectly!"

Harry hesitantly put his hand on the base of her back, feeling the curve of spine. It finally felt normal, and the scars were almost gone, faint crisscrosses barely raised above the skin. The relief in his heart must have shown on his face because Angelina smiled tenderly and kissed him again.

"Thank you for sticking by me Harry. I go a little crazy when I can't be on a broom. You managed to survive my idiotic temper, which is no mean feat."

"Its okay. Besides, you're beautiful when you're angry." She rolled her eyes and laid her head on his chest.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you stay the night with me again?" He frowned and looked her in the eye as she rose up to meet his gaze.

"It's a bit close... don't you think?'

"There is no danger of you turning early. All I want is for you to be with me, and if the answer is now, then I'll understand, really." Harry smiled and realized all he wanted to do right then and there was kiss her again. He must have been staring at her lips because wetted them nervously. "Are you listening to me?" She asked, and before the words completely made it to his brain he leaned in and closed the distance between them, physically and emotionally.

Somewhere within a growl reverberated, and some small part of his brain told his body that Angelina still needed to be treated gently, that she shouldn't be handled this roughly, but his body said NOW. She melted against him, and his hand roamed over every curve he had dreamed about or lusted after. Lifting her into the air, Angelina's long legs wrapped around his waist, causing him to stumble to the bed and fall onto the soft mattress, a billion times thankful for the gentle landing.

Their lips broke apart momentarily as Harry gained control of himself, but the smoldering look in Angelina's eyes mirrored the storm inside. Her full lips parted and exhaled a small...needful sound that tightened Harry's body to the point of pain. His hands trailed down her face, stopping to brush her entirely too kissable lips, to the aquiline curve of her jaw and graceful yet strong neck. Her fingers ran through his hair and pulled him down again, devouring her mouth with almost painful force.

Clothes were torn from bodies and Harry strained to maintain control. Angelina groaned at his hesitance. "Harry, I want this! Right here and now. What's the problem?" She closed her eyes and calmed her voice. "What's the problem?"

"I don't want our first time to be just animal fucking. I want more than that, and you deserve more than that." With difficulty he pushed himself up and off of her lush body, cursing himself inwardly. Angelina nodded dazedly, trying to find a downside and failing.

"What do you want, or a better question is what do you think I want?"

"I'm not even going to try and think about that. What I do want is our first time to be nice and long, because that's what the wait's been."

"What's wrong with now?" She smiled and rolled to look at him.

"If we do this now, I'm not going to last five minutes, and trust me, I have a lot of things I've wanted to do to you." The look in Harry's eye made her shiver, and Angelina nodded shortly.

"Tonight then?"

"And probably the next morning too."

"Promises promises."


End file.
